


An Act of Kindness

by Cchambers



Series: The Summer Soldier and the Sunshine Patriot (SS&SP) [2]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: American Revolution, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fluff, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mutual Pining, One Shot, POV Multiple, Snow, Valley Forge, elizabeth gives ben a christmas gift and he's emo about it, i wrote this a year ago it may be bad, these dumbasses are in love without realizing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cchambers/pseuds/Cchambers
Summary: “I didn’t know your “raids” would include buying gifts for officers, Miss Walker.”“You forget that I am the one with the British money, Major Tallmadge.” She argued. “I decided what and what not to buy.”He nodded, going along with the game, “Of course, Miss. Sorry for arguing.”“You always do,” she said. “You’re as bad as Hamilton.”“I don’t know whether that’s an insult or a compliment.”“Do with it what you will. I enjoy your arguments more.”“Really?”“Yes.”She held out her hand.“I didn’t get him a gift.”
Relationships: Benjamin Tallmadge/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Summer Soldier and the Sunshine Patriot (SS&SP) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061144
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: 12 Days of Turn 2020





	An Act of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to another SS&SP scene! I'm sorry that this isn't a chapter, but you may see a part of this included in the actual fic! This was actually the first scene I ever wrote for SS&SP, way back in December of last year. I decided to post this for 12 Days of Turn, because it was perfect for the prompt and the scene really does have a special place in my heart. It also includes the mention of my good friend's original character, Levi Tallmadge. If you haven't read her fic- Band of Brothers- please check it out, it's one of my favorites! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments are appreciated!

“Wait!” 

He turned just as the snow started to fall, just as the winter chill ran through the air, through her cloak, settling deep in her heart. It was as cold as the night they met, when the first snow of the season fell over the lawn, a light dusting- but it was ruined, ruined by bloody footprints and screams, ruined by the memory of his sobbing, the muffled screams into a pillow.

_ You still haven’t told him that you heard him. _

Benjamin. 

He slowly stepped forward, his cape swishing behind him as he walked, his sword hidden behind the thick, dark fabric. 

“Did you forget something, Miss Walker?” His expression was childlike, innocent, his head tilted, his eyes curious and nervous. He looked as young as she did, in the late, strong moonlight, fog leaving his lips as he spoke- did he notice the chill anymore? Had he become used to it? No one deserved to live in such constant, painful cold. 

Especially not him.

Not Benjamin, who had come up with this plan in the first place. Not Benjamin, who had believed in her. Not Benjamin, who trusted her. His pure, relieved joy he felt earlier tonight stayed in the back of her mind, the hushed way he whispered, “Thank you” before the tarp was even ripped off the cart, and his laugh- oh, his laugh- as he saw the rewards she’d brought him. 

But it was not for himself- it was for the other soldiers, the sick men and the young boys who followed him. 

She did not think he ever felt joy for  _ himself _ .

She needed to change that.

“I can bring Billy back if you forgot something,” he spoke quickly, “it’s no trouble. The poor boy doesn’t sleep until the General does. I may have to create a diversion, though- I am sure Colonel Hamilton will help-"

“I didn’t forget anything, Major Tallmadge.”

Where had she put it? In the pocket of her cloak? No, it didn’t feel weighed down, banging against her side. It wasn’t in the seat- she was worried about it falling in the snow. 

_ Oh, yes. _

“Miss Walker?”

It was hidden in between the bales of hay, wrapped in a spare piece of cloth, the sample the salesman had given her to make sure it was the correct blue. The soldiers miraculously hadn’t found it- they stormed the cart like robbers, jumping up onto the floor and handing off the supplies like a relay. 

“I have something for you,” she said.

He was still confused, head still tilted, eyes still wide, brows still furrowed. “For me?”

“Yes,” she replied, “a gift, of course.”

“A gift?” He asked.

“For Christmastide.”

Holidays were forgotten in war, she knew that- although the holidays always passed for her, when it was just she and the servants, or just she and her father. And even then it was only for Christmas breakfast, even then it was only a couple hours to spare, to give her a gift and compliment her on how beautiful she looked before disappearing in his study. 

Benjamin nodded, after he finally remembered. “Oh, yes, Christmas.”

“Did you celebrate it?”

He shrugged, “In a way. My father tried to, for my mother and me and my brothers. He’s a very religious man, and believes Christmas is a time of giving and not receiving.”

“You didn’t receive gifts?” 

When she was younger there was always a little something- her mother would give her dolls, new ribbons for her hair. Her father never asked what she wanted, what she liked- but he did buy her books, quills and little jars of ink for writing, for arithmetic. It was something. It was enough.

“I have brothers,” Benjamin replied nonchalantly, “we needed clothes on our bodies and a roof over our head more than gifts.” 

_ He’s thinking about someone else again. _

_ He never thinks about himself.  _

“Well, that makes the gift even more special.”

She was about to pull it out from its hiding spot- now tucked behind her back- when- 

“I didn’t know your “raids” would include buying gifts for officers, Miss Walker.”

“You forget that I am the one with the British money, Major Tallmadge.” She argued. “I decided what and what not to buy.”

He nodded, going along with the game, “Of course, Miss. Sorry for arguing.”

“You always do,” she said. “You’re as bad as Hamilton.”

“I don’t know whether that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Do with it what you will. I enjoy your arguments more.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” 

She held out her hand. 

“I didn’t get him a gift.”

Benjamin was finally taking something for himself. 

He was closer, now, inches between them. The snow was melting in his hair, falling onto his shoulders, dripping down the edge of his cape. His eyes were a dull, dimmed blue, like a worn, faded wool. 

His fingers touched hers- everything surrounding them was cold, the storm getting stronger, the sky growing darker, the little light left fading- but his grip, the brief flash of skin, was warm. An uncomfortable, unfamiliar warmth.

He pulled away just as quickly as she did.

He felt it, too.

“Thank you, Miss Walker.” 

He’d taken something for himself.

And she was glad she’d been the one to give it to him.

“Go ahead and open it, please.”

He delicately unwrapped the fabric, the shreds hanging off the edge of his hand.

The book was beautiful. 

She had stopped in the printshop for something to do, another thing to look at it- she’d never been to Lancaster, and she needed to avoid being seen by too many of its townspeople, especially if she showed up with a different “husband” each time she came and went.

The printer had barely looked up when she entered, gave her a tip of the head as he went back to his press. The entire room was cluttered with pamphlets and papers and manuscripts. Jars of ink lined the shelves. The loud clanging of the press jostled her head, made it difficult to think. Difficult to focus. 

And then she saw the book, stacked upon a pile of day old papers. It was leather bound, the title painted onto the cover in a fine, lustrous gold. It wasn’t a tome- it was small, pocket sized. She could fit it in her cloak.

Then, when she saw the title, she knew it was perfect for  _ him _ .

“A book of scripture?”

She nodded, “Yes. I know it’s not Greek, or Latin, or anything you normally read. But in camp that day, when we- when we decided to do this- you said your father’s a preacher. And I- I saw this book of scriptures, and I thought of you.”

He was surprised. “You thought of me?”

“I was buying things for _you_ , after all.”

He sighed of disbelief, stroking the cover- his face was unreadable, still caught in confusion now mixed in with excitement. “You remembered what I said- about my father?”

“I remember everything you tell me,” she didn’t mean to say it so earnestly, so honestly. 

The air between them went still.

Benjamin looked up at her.

“Thank you, Miss Walker.”

His voice was hoarse, cutting off at the end.

He looked as if he were about to cry.

He looked younger than ever.

“Merry Christmas, Major Tallmadge.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Walker.”

She turned back to her carriage.

He turned back to the tents.

The snow continued to fall.

“Oh, and Major Tallmadge?”

He stopped, smiling over his shoulder. “Yes, Miss Walker?”

“Don’t tell Hamilton or Lafayette about it.” She smirked. “I didn’t get them anything.”

Benjamin’s laugh was beautiful as the Christmas snow.

-

Hamilton was the first one to notice the book.

He was the only aide who looked up as Tallmadge walked into the room, his quill hovering over a piece of paper, in the middle of a conversation with Tilghman about Christmas rations for the next morning. Lafayette didn’t look up- he was seated by the fire, scribbling on parchment, his legs crossed.

The cold air hadn’t followed him into the house, but the feeling still lingered in the room. He had walked around the tents for an hour, wishing his men goodnight, wishing them Merry Christmas- it may have been the only one they were going to get. Life at Valley Forge was a constant, numbing cycle- they had only been here for less than two weeks, but every day was the same, if they were lucky. If each day were the same, the cold didn’t get better, or the cold didn’t get worse- those were the days they secretly cherished. Change was dangerous- change made or break the entire camp, the entire army. 

He had forgotten it was Christmas until Miss Walker had told him, until she had given him a completely unnecessary gift- there was little funds to go around, even if the first “raid” was more successful than anything they’d tried so far. They needed to save whatever they got. They needed to wait to use it. Half of war, half of his work, was spent waiting. Waiting for signals, waiting for letters and secrets to be thrown across the sound. 

When he was young, Christmas was only celebrated because of his mother. She was the most religious person in all of Setauket, the preacher’s wife. She valued the religious significance of it, of course, but while his father wrote sermon after sermon and stressed religion, his mother was the one who bought Benjamin and his brothers a little something. A toy soldier for Samuel, and poor Levi was too young to be given anything by the time they celebrated their last few Christmases as a family.

Benjamin was given books.

His mother hid them well, had them shipped in at the port from York City. He was given books for as long as he could remember- plays and pamphlets, the works of Homer and Shakespeare. He’d stay up late after church on Christmas Day and read all of them, devoured them. They took him away from Setauket, a town that didn’t even have a print shop.

The gifts died with his mother.

His mother had been the only one to give him books.

Until Miss Elizabeth Walker had tonight. 

With a sheepish grin on her face as she stood in the snow, hands outside of her cloak, held behind her back, the hood hanging around her shoulders. Even as the cold went through her, as the wind blew the curls of her hair, she smiled. 

She was smiling at  _ him _ .

The cold hadn’t broken her yet.

She had been smiling since she arrived at the edge of camp, beaming beside Tilghman at the front of the cart- none of his other couriers or contacts were happy when they came back, they were  _ relieved _ . 

And she hadn’t stopped smiling.

At first, he figured it was the success getting to her head, the high of stealing- lawfully, of course- right under the British noses. The exhilarating feeling of power it gave her. It might’ve been the only time she’d ever have it.

Then, he realized she was giving him a gift.

Then, he realized she  _ remembered _ .

She remembered a throwaway fact about him, a harmless statement he had made in camp to keep conversation going, to keep her calm, to help her feel welcome in camp. It must’ve been startlingly different- they had invaded the valley, covered as much land as they could, and she was stepping right into the heart of it, right into the lion’s den. 

She remembered something so simple and homely compared to the backstories of his companions- Hamilton’s experiences as a child accountant in the West Indies, Lafayette’s life as a nobleman, for God’s sake.

She remembered he was a preacher’s son.

_ “I remember everything you tell me,” she said. _

Benjamin found himself realizing things after they passed, after it was too late. 

He made a terrible spy.

She wasn’t smiling from the high of success, from the rush and the relief and the giddiness-

Elizabeth Walker was  _ kind _ .

She was the kindest person in this damned war.

Benjamin didn’t know how to tell her, though. 

He didn’t know how to tell her he appreciated her, he didn’t know how to tell her he trusted her as much as she trusted him, he didn’t know how to tell her she was kind and she did such a good job and she was going to go so far and how he felt

warmth around her and how he-

He only knew how to say “Thank you, Miss Walker.”

God, he hadn’t even called her by her  _ name _ .

“What have you got there, Tallmadge?”

He had forgotten where he was.

The other aides were staring at him, now- Hamilton, the most observant besides Benjamin himself, had pointed out whatever he was holding his hand, tucked into those pesky shreds of blue cloth. Lafayette had leaned forward, Tilghman stopped talking, Hamilton stopped writing.

“Give him a minute to warm up from the cold before you interrogate him,  _ mon ami _ .” Lafayette spoke up, but the twinkle in his eyes and the smirk at the edge of his mouth showed he was just as eager to find out. “The ice took our dear Tallmadge’s tongue.” He gestured to the empty chair next to him, “Come warm up by the fire, Benjamin.”

He decided to continue standing, hung his wet cape on the coat rack. Standing gave him an advantage- Hamilton would have to look up if he wanted to tease him. “It’s nothing,” he started to say, but it was fruitless- they were going to rip him apart like a piece of meat until they got what they wanted.

“How is Miss Walker?” Hamilton asked. “Did she get home safely?”

“Yes,” he had sent three dragoons to escort the carriage home. “She’s very pleased about today’s outcome.”

“We all are,” Lafayette replied, but there was something else he wanted to say, and Benjamin already knew what it was going to be. “I am sure His Excellency would be as well-“

“Not yet.” They weren’t having this conversation tonight- it was Christmas Eve. He would let the aides tear him apart about a book rather than about ignoring the chain of command- which seemed to be the only thing he was good at nowadays. “Not until we know it can work more than once, Marquis.”

“Tallmadge is right,” Tilghman took on his responsibility as the oldest man in the room and broke the argument before it even began. “Besides, we were talking about whatever you’ve got in your hand.” He pointed at the book. 

“It’s scripture.” Benjamin said.

“Always the preacher’s son,” Hamilton tisked. “Nothing remarkable, gentlemen.”

“It looks quite nice,” Tilghman countered, “Marquis, look how vividly dyed the leather bounding is.”

Lafayette, the richest man Benjamin had ever met, now paid attention. He looked up at him, betraying a slight amount of shock. “Where did you get it?”

“It’s... it’s a gift.”

“Somebody sent you a gift?” Tilghman asked.

“Tallmadge is handsome enough to have a secret admirer,” Hamilton remarked.

“It wasn’t sent to me-“ god, how was he going to phrase this? He was still processing it himself. “It was  _ given _ to me.”

“ _ Benjamin _ ,” Lafayette whispered, “Did General Washington give it to you?”

He had to refrain from laughing- actually, was he  _ blushing _ ? Or was that windburn on his cheeks?

“It’s a gift from Miss Walker,” he said.

Why did he feel so  _ embarrassed _ ?

An awkward silence fell over the atmosphere.

He hated it.

“Oh,” Hamilton, always the first to speak up. “That’s very nice of her.”

“Yes,” Lafayette agreed, “very nice.”

Tilghman was a master of regaining his composure before anyone else, “She is very kind,” he said. “She got a stack of playing cards for Billy Lee as well.” But, even if Tilghman was naturally calm, Benjamin detected a hint of surprise still lingering on his face.

“She’s incredibly kind.”

So kind Benjamin didn’t know how to deal with it.

No one had done anything for him like this before.

“Are you going to write her another letter?” Hamilton’s eyes twinkled mischievously, a normalcy which calmed Benjamin- only slightly. 

“I have the ability to thank her in person now,” he replied.

“Yes,” Lafayette nodded, “as you should.”

Tilghman returned to his work, “Perhaps you can play her husband next time, Tallmadge. I’m afraid I look a bit too old next to her.”

“Yes. Maybe I will.”

He wanted to spend  _ time _ with her.

War didn’t give him enough of it.

“Enjoy your gift, Tallmadge.” Hamilton said, and picked up his quill.

He cared about the person who gave it to him just a little bit more, though.

Maybe he never cared about the books in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, aren't they adorable? Benjamin and Elizabeth are so fun to write- when I'm not writing, you can definitely find me rereading their scenes. I hope you enjoyed! If you want more SS&SP "one shots", follow me on tumblr @tallmadgeandtea, I have many there! And if you me to post them on here, feel free to let me know! Thanks for reading SS&SP, and Happy Holidays!


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